With You I Am Born Again
by decambrem
Summary: What if after dealing with the Irish, Jax returned to the cabin to find Tara still there? What if Tara didn't ask for a deal after she caught Jax with Collete? Could it be possible for them to navigate through their relationship with so much water under the bridge? Would it be possible for them not to drown? Picks up from, You Are My Sunshine, with a little twists.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Just to start out, I want to say thanks for stopping by & checking this out. I hope you really do enjoy reading this. Read & Review please.

As for the story, I do need to establish a few things before moving on:

Tara never went to Patterson's office after she found Jax with Collete.

Clay was indeed shot and killed in front of Tara, Gemma, and Nero.

Patterson didn't reach out to Tara while in the car, but she will later reach out through other means that fit within the context of the story,

Tara removed the bullet from Bobby and still has it in her possession

Jax talked to her and told her he understood why she did what she did, also that he was sorry that being with him took her to that place.

With that said, I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

She reaches out and places her left hand on Bobby's forehead as he sleeps. She tries to gauge his temperature with her limited resources here in Piney's old cabin; she diligently watches him and checks over him. Any spike in his temperature could indicate a possible infection. She sits back in the wooden chair and looks around the room. The sun creeping through the windows is scattered by the film of dust coating it. Her thoughts wander from how ill of a place this is for Bobby to be recovering in, to the state of affairs with the people in her life.

With her husband. With Gemma. With the club.

She takes a deep breath and leans forward once again to check on Bobby. As she does so Juice enters the room holding a green mug filled with coffee.

"Hmm. Thank you." She says as she turns to take the cup from his hands.

"Sure. Need anything else?"

The sound of her phone ringing brings her attention to the brown leather purse forgotten on the hardwood floor. She turns to place the coffee filled mug on the oak bedside table to her left and bends over to pick up her bag.

As she places the purse in her lap, she turns her head in his direction and curtly nods with an, "I'm fine," in order to dismiss him.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else," he headed out the room without closing the door.

She fumbles through her purse to find the burner flip phone and pulls it out from underneath all the knick knacks littering her purse. She recognizes the number as her recently hired lawyer, Mitch Turner. For some reason, panic rises to her throat and she finds herself nervously looking over to the unconscious Bobby. Then glancing back in the direction in which Juice left.

She swiftly, but quietly rises out of the wooden chair and shuts the heavy green door slowly. Her attention darts back to Bobby, still unconscious, and she opens the phone, presses the green button and brings it to her ear.

"Hello," nervously slips out her mouth.

"Hi Tara, it's Mitch Turner. I have some good news, the DA who is prosecuting your case reached out to me this morning. She wants to meet and try to come up with some sort of arrangement to get you less time or none at all."

She brought her bandaged covered hand to her nose and pinched tightly, "I neither want nor need a deal. She already knows where I stand on this. My old lawyer and I spoke with her already."

"Tara, to be completely honest, this is not looking very good for you right now. You're running low on options here and she may be your best bet, if not your only one. Look, listen, how about we meet in person and talk this over. Eye to eye."

She took a deep breath in and slammed her eyes shut. Ratting. I can't. I won't.

"Tara. You still there?"

"Yeah Mitch. Okay I'll meet you over at . My office."

She began to tell him what time, when she noticed Bobby beginning to stir. His eyes fluttered open and he began to move his mouth.

"Look I have to go. Just, um… I'm on my way there now. Can you meet me now?"

"Sure. That's gr –" She shuts the phone mid- sentence on Mitch and pockets the phone as she walks over to the chair and sits.

She rests her forearms on her knees and leans forward. Bobby glances over in her direction, moans slowly escaping his lips.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"How do I look?"

The ability to be sarcastic is usually is good sign in her book.

"Like you've been shot."

Quiet and pain- filled laughs moved past his chapped lips

"Ooo. Shhh."

His tattooed right arm reached out and grabbed her right hand. His calloused hand entwined itself around it and squeezed as tightly as his sedated state allowed.

"Thanks Doc," slipped from his mouth before he fell back into unconsciousness. She smiles and leans back in her chair. She stares at the hand that just fell limp in hers and actively begins to think what her next move could do him. To all of them. Including herself and her sons.

Is this a hand that doesn't deserve punishment on some platform? If I go through with Patterson's offer, I'll be betraying all of them, on a certain level that should never be crossed in this world. But these are grown men, they can shoulder the weight of _their_ sins, my sons, however should not have to bear that weight.

She grabs Bobby's arm, stands and places it on his rounded belly. She walks to the other side of the bed, her boots sounding off with each step. She maneuvers the sling a little to the left and checks Bobby's wound.

As she starts cleaning the wound, Bobby wakes once again.

"A doctor's work is never done, huh?" Bobby shifted upward on the bed using his good arm to help make the move.

"Careful, here let me help you." She reaches over and grabs three pillows from the end of the bed and situates them behind Bobby giving him a better position.

"Thanks again Doc, really appreciate it."

"No problem at all Bobby. A little food for thought though, next time you go to battle try wearing Kevlar shoulder pads. You have a nasty habit of getting shot it the shoulder because if I recall correctly about three years ago I patched you up for the same thing on the same shoulder."

She finishes off the comment with a loving smile, in which Bobby laughs and nods his head in agreement.

"Anyways, I'm gonna run to now. Pick up some supplies; we're running low on antiseptics and bandages." She walks over to the oak table parallel to the bed and picks up her cream colored leather jacket. As she shrugs it on she gazes out the window and looks at the four bikes parked outside next to her car that Gemma and Nero drove over last night. She sighs and prays that one of them won't be tailing her this time around.

"So doctor's orders until I get back include you staying in bed and resting."

She walks pass the chair holding his kutte and straight to the green door, looking back she leaves one last request, "And Bobby, no joints and absolutely no alcohol. It slows down your recovery."

"Well where's the fun it that?"

"The fun will be found when the alcohol thins your blood and you start to bleed again. It'll be a picnic basket filled with blood flavored fun. See ya later Bobby."

She walks down the hallway, filled with the scent of must, weed and cigarettes. Yup. Absolute fun.

She enters the dining room and scans the room. Juice is sitting on the couch that they made their make shift bed the night before. West and Rat are sitting adjacent to each other playing cards and drinking.

"Hey, I need some more supplies. I have to head back to St. Thomas."

Juice calmly shifts his head in her direction and nods.

"Rat will go with you."

Frustration and anger filled her bones. Seriously. You've got to be kidding me.

She walks forward, heading to the door, as she passes Juice she utters sarcastically, "Because I would be lost without him."

As she makes her way to the door, West calls out, "Anything we need to do for Bobby?"

"I don't know, how about not letting him die."

She turns back to Rat and West, "He'll be fine."

She beckons Rat with her index finger, her face painted with annoyance to find him still sitting, "Let's go."

* * *

When she opens her old office door, cold shock runs through her veins to see Gemma sitting on the desk.

"What are you doing here?"

Dangling her shades between two fingers, she smugly announces to Tara, "West told me you were coming by to pick up supplies. Figured I meet you at the scene of the crime."

As she turns to shut the door, Gemma stares at the blood staining the gray old carpet.

"Wow. How many dead babies does it take to ruin a carpet?" Gemma swiveled in Tara's direction as she threw her purse onto the desk.

"None. As it turns out. What do you want Gemma?"

Gemma slid off the table and rocked on her heels, "Wendy needs some anti-nausea scripts."

At the sound of Wendy's name she felt herself mentally rolling her eyes. Stupid, weak junkie. Can't believe I actually thought she could pull herself together long enough to actually pretend she could be mother.

"Hmmm. I'm sorry for Wendy, but I don't have the keys to the pharmacy." Gemma returned her snide comment with a pinned look.

I might as well go along, I need her out of here anyways.

"I can check the doctors' lounge for samples, otherwise, just pick up some emetrol for Mort's."

She turns away from Gemma and heads to her old file cabinet where she still keeps some of her documents. She opens the third drawer and prays Gemma takes the hint and leaves before her lawyer comes in.

"Okay. How's Bobby?"

"Oh, he's gonna be fine. I just need to get back up there. Pick up some files for my lawyer. And casually _steal_, from the hospital I no longer work for."

Gemma looked on with a smirk at Tara's new predicament and felt a sense of joy at the way Tara was taking everything in stride.

She glances back from the file cabinet to tell Gemma that she'll meet her downstairs in twenty minutes.

"Yes, ma'am."

Gemma opens the door and walks on out leaving the door gray door cracked.

As Gemma leaves, she stops fake shuffling through her file cabinet and closes the door behind her.

* * *

She sits in her old office chair just thinking as she waits for her lawyer. She thinks of her old life, when she wasn't being charged with conspiracy to commit murder. When she didn't fake a pregnancy and a miscarriage. When she still had her medical license to practice. It felt like the days of coming into this office and seeing baby pictures littering the wall and surgeries posted on her board were never coming back.

As she rocks back and forth in the chair, tapping her fingers on her lap to a beat she could only hear in her head, a knock sounds from the door.

"Come in." She sits up in her chair and scoots forward.

And the last person she ever expected to see walk into this room ever again…..does.

"West gave me a call. Told me you stopped by here to pick up some supplies. Thought I come down here give you a hand."

Jax stood in the doorway of the office, hesitating to walk in.

She couldn't look at him. At the very least, not in this room. She hears him walk further into room and pans her gaze to her hands that rest balled up on the desk.

"Well Rat came with me and your mother is downstairs waiting for me. I have more help than I thought I would _ever_ get."

The sad tension that permeated the room broke both of their bleeding hearts. The realization that this is where their marriage has come to shore to hits in place they never saw coming. The silence and the guilt, however was too hard for Jax to take any longer.

As he started to move closer to Tara, the door was suddenly pushed open wider to reveal Tara's lawyer.

She brings her head up sharply and stares at Jax then Mitch.

"I'm sorry Tara. If I'm interrupting I'll gladly come back later." Mitch moves to leave the room, however Tara calls out to him to wait.

Jax stares at Tara with an unreadable expression plastered on his face as she stands from her chair.

"Is this the new lawyer?"

"Mitch Turner. He's representing me in the trial."

"You must be Jackson Teller. Nice to meet you sir." Mitch switches his briefcase to his left hand to place his hand in front of Jax in an effort to properly introduce himself.

She watches as Jax reluctantly breaks eye contact with her and shifts to his left to shake his hand in return. He moves pass Mitch and walks to the door, "I'll see you up there later, okay."

The guilt of really realizing what this meeting was about weighed heavy on her heart. I may not be on the same page as him as far as the boys and Charming goes, but I still do love him. Even though he… I can't. Ugh.

"Wait." She steps from behind the desk and moves to Mitch.

"We can have this meeting some other time. If anything, why don't we scratch this option off the table and go with what we have already."

"Tara, I strongly advise yo –"

She moves to the door and stands parallel to Jax in the mini carpeted hallway outside her old office.

"I'm sorry. I know you're hard pressed for time and I know this was the only moment you had to sit with me, but I really do have to go." She looked in Jax's direction; he was leaning against the wall with his hands hooked on his pockets. He was casting her a look that was once again unreadable.

"I have some business here, so you can head back up there. I'll be up there soon. Plus Rat and Gemma are here. I won't get lonely."

He moved away from the wall and took two steps toward her, his expression was no longer unreadable, it was plain as day. It was one filled with pain and anguish. He obviously wanted to get her alone to talk, but she was determined to avoid him like the plague.

His eyes met hers and to hold that gaze felt so easy yet so scary. Those eyes had the power to destroy her, just as hers had the power to make him unbelievably vulnerable.

"I'll relieve you of Gemma. Rat will stay and help you out."

She nods in reply and glances over at Mitch and nods. Jax gives a short, curt nod at the lawyer and walks down the hallway to leave the two of them alone.

She walks back into her office and picks her purse up from the center of the desk.

"Tell her my answer still remains the same. I'm not guilty and I'm not a rat." She walks pass Mitch shuts her door and leaves him standing there in a state of confusion.

* * *

She walks up the rocky steps of the cabin, behind her Rat closely follows with a white box filled of stolen medical goods. She turns the knob of the door and pushes it open. The first thing she sees is Jax leaning on the wall adjacent to the door. She watches him straighten up his legs and give her a longing look. Scattered hellos filled the room at her arrival. She then casts her gaze towards them to return the greeting and she stops on Bobby.

The doctor in her rises to the surface as well as frustration at the fact he ignored his previous warnings.

"Oh that's real good. Alcohol and opiates. You didn't hear a word I said did you, picnic basket filled with blood flavored fun, ring any bells?"

Bobby raised the hand holding the joint and waved it around.

"Next time I'll figure out how to casually steal a defibrillator as well."

She turns to Rat and takes the box of medical supplies from his hands and gives him a short thank you before placing it on her hip and walking over to the back room.

She makes her way to the table against the window and places the box down. She sharply turns, and tosses her bag down on the bed with an exhale. She brings her hand to her lip and plays with it in an act of nervousness. As she does so a black shadow is cast upon the door and she looks up to see Jax enter the room. Instinct has her swirling away from his gaze and nervousness leads her to fiddle with the box of supplies. She can't see him, but she hears the door shut quietly and realizes she can't keep avoiding him.

"Bobby looks better."

She sighs and starts unpacking the gauze, "He shouldn't be drinking."

"He knows."

She takes in one long and drawn out breath and turns to face him. She crosses one leg in front of the other and leans on the table. She takes him in and once again he's leaning back against something, this time the cabinet, with his hands hooked in his pockets. She tries to think of anything say, to make some sort of attempt to break this painful silence.

"You headed home after this?"

A quiet no makes it way pass his lips. "Got some stuff to clean up with the Irish. It's gonna be a late one for me."

She nods and looks down at her boots. She brings her right arm up and hooks it on her hip. He never averts his gaze, each time she looks up he's staring right at her, into her. It's like his eyes are trying to say sorry, trying to find a way back to the woman he loves. He refuses to bring his gaze anywhere else, "The boys staying with Gemma?"

He utters a simple yeah.

She looks away from him, a little peeved about her children being kept away from her, but she realizes it's not really him doing it.

"Go say goodnight if you want," has her raising her head and shaking it. She's not really in the mood to see Gemma, Nero, Unser or Wendy playing house with her children.

"No I should just stay here again. It's easier." She gives a slight nod in acquiesce.

"Okay."

They both just find themselves staring at each other.

In such a brief second she saw the vulnerability he always had towards her flash in his eyes. The love they felt for each other was still there, not like she ever really questioned it, but to see it so clearly in his eyes, hurt her on a molecular level.

"After your trial, we're gonna figure all this out."

Fear radiated in her skin and came through her eyes.

Could we really figure anything out anymore? Do I want to figure anything out to make us work? There's just so much pain between us now.

But seeing his eyes turn away from her for the first time since he entered the room snapped something inside her.

Something in her still wanted this man by her side, for what reason, who the hell knows. Maybe it's the familiarity. Maybe it's the history. Maybe because he's the only man she ever loved. Who knows? But seeing him turn and walk away pained her.

I just have to say it though, he may have contributed to where we are today, but so have I. And he hasn't heard it from me yet. He hasn't felt it from me.

She rushes over and grabs his elbow before he has a chance to get to the door knob. She pulls his body into hers and let his familiar scent wash over her. Despite the fact that he smokes avidly, he never seemed to just simply reek of it. Maybe it's because of the wind when he rides, but he always has an underlying scent of the breeze. After years of being wrapped it that scent, it gradually became her home; that scent to her was like a child's favorite blanket.

She wraps her left arm around his neck and her right swings around his back in a tight embrace. She nuzzles her face into his body when he pulls his hands out of his pockets. He wraps both his arms around her wholeheartedly and squeezes her body into his. It's as they're trying to imprint their bodies into one another.

She feels him lean the weight of his head on her shoulder and the bitter sting of tears well up at the bottom of her eyes.

A small, weak and pain-filled, "I'm sorry," whispered its way through her lips. And with that he took his left hand from her back and placed it on her head in an attempt to comfort her. Hearing that frail 'sorry' slip pass her mouth, broke his heart. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and in an attempt to stave them off he dug his face into her shoulder and held on tightly.

She could feel herself losing to a battle to the tears so she slowly pulls her left arm from around his neck and places it on his shoulder with a slight nudge. She steps back and he releases the hold he as on her. She gazes up at his face while still in close contact and she she's the tears in his eyes.

She has to get out of here. She moves to head in the bathroom, anywhere but near him. She starts to move past the table and the bed and, all of a sudden, there's a pressure on her stomach. She looks down to see a glimpse of his right hand and in the next two seconds she finds herself spun around and his arms once again.

"Ja –"

"Shhh. Please. Just please give me this chance to hold you. Please."

Tears freely started to trail down face. She had so much resentment towards the man, but yet she found herself feeling sorry for him. After everything he put through her through, intentionally or not.

"To be perfectly honest with you Jax, I've been trying to figure out if the love we have for each is either sorely pathetic or severely romantic. I'm so hopelessly torn.

She feels his shoulders shake and feels a gust of air by her ear as he exhales with a quiet laugh.

"I think it's about pretty even in both corners."

He moves her head away from where it was resting on his chest and begins to delicately wipe away the tears staining her face. She keeps her eyes from making contact with his. She's reluctant to form or open that door to him at this moment. Not when there are so many things up in the air.

"I'm going to just wash my face," she steps back from him and finishes walking to the bathroom, as she shuts the door, she looks to him.

Silent tears made their way down his face just as it did hers. Unable to bear that sight she shuts the door and moves to the sink to throw some water on her face.

She takes the red hand towel off the shelf above the toilet and dries her face. She hears the door in the other room open and realizes that he's leaving the room. She turns the door knob and heads out after him.

She overhears him telling the guys that they should get going and that she's going to stay at the cabin as she walks down the hallway. She turns the corner and leans against the wall. As she looks up she finds Jax's gaze on her once again.

He stands back and lets the guys leave first, never breaking his stare. After Chibs, Tig, and Rat exits he gives her a quiet thank you and still doesn't dare break that eye contact until he closes the door behind him.

She shuts her eyes in an effort to cancel out those feelings starting to come to the surface again. As she does so she hears Bobby request more alcohol from West. She gives a mental sigh and pushes off the wall.

"Hey. You need to stop drinking and get back into bed."

"Yes dear."

With a nod, she moves forward and grabs his good hand, "Come on help me up with him."

* * *

When she secures the last piece of tape around the gauze, Bobby reaches out once again and pats her hand, "Thanks you so much sweetheart."

"You're welcome," she moves to collect the wrapping from the gauze scattered across the bed, "You need to stay in bed and get some rest."

"No problem."

She turns to toss all the trash in the waste bin and pulls the gloves off her hands to throw them out as well. She picks up her purse and moves to leave the room to let him get his much needed rest but before she get a chance to leave a "We love you Doc," fills the air.

Startled, she stops in her tracks. She stares and gives a smile accompanied to with nod. Before closing the door she faces him once more.

"It would be much easier if you didn't. That's for sure."

"He loves you darling. People tend to get lost on their own, but together they usually find their way. The right thing will settle in. It always does. Universe always has a funny way of making things right when they're thrown out of whack."

"Hmmm, well let's hope."

She opens and shuts the door. She walks into the dining room to find West asleep on the couch. The sound of her boots however wakes him and leads him to asking how Bobby is.

"He's resting. I'm just gonna wash up and do the same."

"Sounds like a plan." He returned to reading the forgotten book in his lap as walked over to the other room down the hall.

She opens it up and tosses down her bag on the bed. She follows the bag and collapses across it. She turns onto her stomach and buries her face into the bed. Sleep eventually takes over her before she has the chance to move up the bed or kick her shoes off.

Dreams of a much happier time evaded her thoughts and brought her back to a time when everything was so easy between them.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed reading this. I know it's a long sucker, I wanted to actually break this into two chapters, but I just couldn't find the appropriate cut off.

The next chapters should be about half this word count or a little less. As for the story, Patterson and Jax's deal will be playing out in the next chapters. Repercussions of the restraining order, the fake miscarriage, the will from season 5, and the infidelity will all come back to play. Nothing is just gonna get smoothed over. There will be fights, arguments, love and hate and everything we love about this couple. The love did not die at all throughout season 6, it got lost for one and put aside for the other, and so I wanted to play out how they would find it again.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this and comment. Means so much to hear good feedback. Anyways, I do hope you guys enjoy this chapter as well, it starts to pick up momentum here. Jax and Tara really have their first conversation and we'll go from there. Read, Enjoy & Review :) XOXO

* * *

By the time Jax and crew made their way back to the cabin it was already dark out. The light drizzle that followed them all the way back to the cabin had begun to take form and started pelting down on them. All five of them parked their bikes along the stone hedge lining the cabin and ran up the stairs into the cabin.

As they entered, a dark shroud of old cigarettes, weed and outdoors washed over them. Jax surveyed the room in the dim lighting and noted West knocked out on the couch and Tara nowhere to be.

"Lazy bastard." Still giddy with their new found freedom from guns, Chibs and Tig gave each other a knowing look and thought what a perfect time to screw with him. They grabbed either side of the couch, picked it up and rocked it forward thus knocking West not only from his slumber, but his make shift bed.

Jax laughed as he shook the water from his blonde gelled back hair, "Morning sunshine." He shrugged out of his kutte and jacket leaving only his white t-shirt, "Where's Tara? And how's Bobby doing?"

West staggered to his feet and sat back down on the couch, "They're both resting."

Tig sat on the edge of couch and wrapped his arm around West's neck to pull him close.

"Let's see, we got a shot up fat man and a sleeping beauty, both very much defenseless, and you decide it's nap time. Next time Tara makes a run up to St. Thomas I'll ask her to bring a defibrillator along. So when you decide it's nap time, you're nads get a nice zap and tickle. How's that sound?"

"A lot better than having to help Bobby piss again."

Tig laughed as he released his hold on him, "I'll go check on Bobby boss."

Jax made his way to the room Tara slept in the night before, "Sure thing."

* * *

She knows she hears movement and talking outside the room, but exhaustion seems to have wrapped itself around her legs like a ball and chain. She listens for two more seconds and there's a pause in the movements outside the door so she rolls from her front, onto her side and curls into fetal position. She tucks her left hand under her head and curls the right one under her chin; it only takes another two seconds for sleep to take her away again.

* * *

He softly pushes open the heavy oak door, praying it doesn't squeak and startle her. He glances inside the room and instantly his heart drops.

To see her balled up at the foot of the bed, with her leather jacket and boots still on, her purse tossed down carelessly, broke his heart. Exhaustion must of hit her hard. He grips the door knob and pushes the door quietly up. He walks further into the room, stops at the foot of the bed and just watches her sleep. Her chest shallowly moving in and out. Her legs tangled together.

His eyes take in every part of her, and finds itself paralyzed at her right hand. He sees the scars that make their way their way down her arm and guilt hits him hard. Without even realizing it ten minutes have passed by as he took in his wife's sleeping form.

Compulsively, his hands move to bottom her jeans and he gently starts to shrug them up. He pulls at the zipper and carefully removes the boot covering her right foot. He places the boot on the ground and starts to work on the left one. Once both are off he picks her purse up off the bed and walks over to the small three-legged wooden table in the corner of the room. When he places the purse down he hears something off, something heavy at the bottom of bag knocked against the wood. Curiosity gets the better of him and he begins to undo the metal clasp across the leather bag. He rummages through her bag and feels a something he knows all too well.

The telltale feeling of a gun butt. He slowly pulls out her .38 and remembers the last time he saw her with it.

He stares down at the gun and remembers the look in her eyes, the utter shock that this is where she has landed in her life. The fear that he may lay his hands on her.

It's my entire fault.

He glances over at her sleeping body and his resolve shakes once more and he questions whether or not if this is where she belongs. Maybe letting her go is the best thing he can do for her.

I can't lose her though. I can't lose her and the kids. They're the only thing good left in my life. Why do I always find a way to screw up the good things right out of my life?

He lifts the back of slightly wet t-shirt and tucks her .38 in the back of his jeans next to his own handgun. He moves through the room and walks over to the closet. He takes a red and white checkered quilt from the top shelf and closes the doors.

When he turns around he sees her dark green eyes open and staring right at him.

"Hi there. I didn't mean to wake you, just cover you up."

He walks over to the bed as she sits up. She pulls her feet under her and crosses them sitting Indian style.

"You're wet."

"Yeah we just got back and it's raining out."

Silence follows his answer and he places the folded up quilt on the bed.

"I need to tell you something."

"Sorry, but can it wait just for a second. I have to check on Bobby and more importantly I have to use the bathroom," she casts a curt and short smile in his direction and navigates through the moonlit room.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

She walks through the open door, "You took off my shoes," she wiggles her black sock clad feet, "Thanks. Bobby looks good; I changed his bandages and redressed the wound. He and the guys are going to catch some sleep."

He nods weakly, with a just as weak smile.

She shuts the door and leans against it, as she does so she takes the moment to examine her husband.

He took her previous spot and is now sitting on the edge of the bed; his white sneakers lay next to her black boots in deep contrast. She brings her gaze up to his and finds his eyes on her.

His eyes once again just cut through her and leave her so vulnerable. The moon shining through the chiffon white curtains illuminates his haunting gaze.

I feel like I can't breathe.

"What I wanted to talk to you about was your trial," he patted the spot next to him on the bed to get her to relax and sit.

She moves forward and steps over the shoes to sit on the bed. She tucks one leg under her butt and leaves the other one hang to over the bed, barely touching the floor.

"Well that's a first," She lifts her head and gives him a spiteful smile, "You've seemed not to care for the past two weeks."

He dropped his head from her mocking eyes, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

"I honestly have no words for you Tara, I feel like apologizing would be insulting you in some way. I kn –"

"Sorry would feel a lot better than nothing, that's for sure." Her foot began to shake in frustration.

Is he kidding me right now? Sorry would be insulting me, screwing a prostitute pretty much took the winner circle.

"I'm sorry Tara. If I could go back and do th –"

"What's done is done Jax. And don't say sorry just because I told you to, say it because you mean it." She takes to her feet and stands in aggravation. She walks over to the light switch, "And at least turn the stupid light on."

Frustration, guilt, anger, and her impending incarceration all boiled under the surface of her skin. She could feel her breathing getting heavier. His words were getting to her. And not in a good way.

"Listen, please Tara. I am sorry. I'm not just saying because you told me to. I can't describe how sorry I am for everything Tara, because I honestly don't think words would ever be enough. Words would be too cruel."

She leans on the door once again and keeps the distance that she feels safe in.

"I had a talk with the DA that's prosecuting your case. She –"

"Yeah I've met her. She's a real joy to be ar –"

"Stop. Stop interrupting me. I get your mad, but please just hear me out."

He stares at her with a slightly irritated look on his face. She gives him one back at him as well, refusing to back down. She places her right hand on her hip and braces the left one on the door. She then tilts her head in his direction as to say, go ahead and make your point.

"I spoke with her and I made a deal for you. Full immunity. That stuff with Clay over at that hanger was part of that deal."

She just stares at him for a long time. Her expression tense and unreadable.

Her stare and silence frightens him. That's one thing about his wife that he always hated and loved. Her unpredictability. At one moment she was like an open book to him, the next she has walls up that rival The Great Wall of China itself.

The silence went on for what felt like an eternity and as much as he wanted to break that silence he had no clue how. They've never been so far apart as they were now. Even when she was halfway across the country.

"Did you strike that deal before or after I faked the miscarriage?" The sharpness and swiftness in her question left him stunned.

Not only did the question catch him off guard, but it was the first time that she was on the offense about what she had done.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He shook his head, genuinely bewildered at the question.

"It means _everything_. If you can't figure out why it matters to _me_ then there's nothing for _us_ to _figure out_."

He looks on, helplessly clueless. He bows his head down and braces it in his hands. Several moments past and he raises his head with the same expression. If anything, it's even more clueless than it was before.

In exasperation, Tara pushes herself off the door and turns to leave. He rushes forward and grabs her hand as it grips the door knob.

His body presses up against her and he drops his head to her shoulder and a weak, "Please don't go, I need you," makes it way past his lips.

She takes her hand off the door knob and side steps him. She walks over to the bed and leaves him standing at the door. She sits on the side of the bed, looking over at him.

"You remember when Abel was kidnapped? And I told you my brain never stops." She looks up at him and waits for a response. In which he steps forward and leans against the table holding her purse, across from where she was sitting on the bed. He folds his right leg over his left and rocks back, his hands bracing themselves on the table behind him. She watches as the sinews and tendons in his arms flex their way up his arm with the pressure of his weight. His JT and Thomas tattoos dancing across his skin, as if they had a life of their own.

With a gentle nod as he glances up he responds, "I do. Yeah."

His eyes ebbing and flowing with the memory of their pain when they lost their son.

"Well apparently, that kind of brain isn't fit for this life. All I am is scared Jackson. All I do is run very plausible hypotheticals in my brain over and over, it doesn't stop. Worse case scenarios in which you end up shot or back in jail or, God forbid, something happens to Abel or Thomas. And don't you dare say you would never let that happen, because I can think of a few times those words came out your mouth and it did come to pass."

He shakes his head and scoffs,

"Then what would you have wanted me say? Would you feel better if I just shrugged my shoulders and said whatever will be will be? That's more comforting right?" He stands from the table and paces back and forth. His sock covered feet stomping loudly on the hardwood floors. The rip bottoms of his dark denim Levis trail behind him. He drags his hands through his hair over and over. Frustration taking root. His right hand catches on the back of his neck and he turns to her. Hands outstretch in acquiesce.

"You want me to be straight with you? Fine then. I don't when the next disaster is gonna hit. I have absolutely not one clue, but I do know I'm gonna fight like hell to make sure it doesn't come anywhere near you and our boys." His voice was no longer calm, it was reaching a vicious yell.

Fear of this conversation turning into a shouting match rips Tara away from the side of the bed. She brushes past him with the intent of putting her boots back on and leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" He shakes his head in disbelief, "Don't tell me you're running?" A spiteful, breathless laugh slips past his lips.

"I'm trying to try here Tara. I want to figure this out, for you, me, Thomas and Abel. And now you wanna run."

She zips up her remaining boot and pivots on her heel, "Yup. Because the world knows that's what Tara Grace Knowles does best. She flees like Bambi from a freaking forest fire, when shit doesn't going her way."

He heaves one hell of a sigh and steps towards her, in which she takes two back.

"Tara. Please don't go. I'm sorry for everything. I…..," he hung his head powerless to continue the sentence, "Can't you see, I'm just trying to make it right. What I did to you, I'm just trying. So please, let me back in babe. We'll find a way to work it out like we always do."

She stares at him for a long minute. Her eyes piercing through him, like no other could do. Her eyes have the gift to be the architect to his greatest strength as a man and yet hold the power to shatter even his strongest resolve. She was his Achilles' heel and yet his hammer and sword.

His greatest paradox. His cruelest juxtaposition.

Still with her silent stare, she painstakingly takes creeping steps toward him, so quiet that not even her boots could out sound his heavy breathing. She stops in front him and her gaze breaks to follow the hand she places on his chest. Over his Abel tattoo. Her small fingers curl in slightly around his pectoral, her short blunt nails putting pressure.

Staring at her hand, "Did you strike that deal before or after I faked a pregnancy and a miscarriage?"

She could feel the intake of his breath, the shake of his head.

He brings his left hand to cover hers over his heart, "After."

"Case in point." Her hand limply slips out of his to reach behind him and grab her purse.

"I'm gonna head back home, grab a change a clothes and head back. You can have Rat tail me if you don't trust me. Don't really care."

She makes her way back to the door with a renewed step to her walk. This time around there was no mistaking her heels on the hardwood floor.

"Tara wa –"

"No. I'm not going to stand here and pretend everything is fine when it's not. I'm not going to stand here and fix something _you_ broke. I'm exhausted Jax. I'm tired of being tired. And you know what; I don't want to do it anymore. I don't. It took me watching a man, who I _related_ to more than I did my _own husband_, to brutally jam a crucifix over and over into an innocent woman's neck to get it. Parent trumps spouse any day. And a good parent doesn't just sit around waiting for the worse to happen. No. They take preventative measures to make sure the worse does not happen to them. Why? Because they're babies, they're helpless. They rely on _us_, you and me Jackson, to make the sound decision that's going to keep them safe. For instance, it took something absolutely disgusting, like a forced miscarriage, for you to even _look_ in my direction for weeks. And I will _not_ wait around for the worse to happen to our _children_ for _you,_ to pull your goddamn balls out your back pocket and let them hang."

She spun on her heel, yanked the door open and slammed it shut so hard the picture frame of a child fishing at the lake fell to the floor. The shattered glass scattered all around the smiling face of the child.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Love to hear all the feedback, it makes me all warm and squishy on the inside. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it was a real pleasure fleshing this particular one out. Oh that reminds me, I might be, actually I will be upping the rating for future chapters. There will be some detailed adult content between our beloved couple. How far into the future will we be seeing these scenes, I myself am not very sure, but I do know they will be featured. Read and review :) XOXO**

* * *

She hears a rush of air behind her from the force in which he yanks the door open. Hearing her name in the sound of plea from her husband had her feet moving faster out of the hallway. For every two of her steps on the hardwood floor he covers them in one long step. By the time she swings around the corner into the dining room, he's already on her.

"Tara. Please just hear me ou –" He grabs her right elbow to slow her down as she makes her way to her into the dining room. She sharply forces her arm downward to break the hold he has on her and continues pass Chibs and Tig playing cards at the table.

Chibs and Tig share a look of amusement. Remembering the days their old president and queen would have arguments. Both men shook their heads at the sight of Jax following Tara out the door.

"Groveling would be too kind of a word, don't you think." Tig rocked back in his chair and smiled at Chibs.

"Aye brotha."

* * *

With Jax on her heel, she makes it to her car door, but stops to fumble around in her purse in search of her car keys. As she feels the familiar ridges of metal at the bottom of the purse he pulls her hand out of it and spins her around to face him. His nose dangerously flares out with every breath and his eyes reflect deep frustration with her. He ruthlessly pulls her body to his, causing her to drop the purse. Out of reflex her hands daintily curl into his chest and she casts him a glare filled with resentment, but absolute longing.

Her boots gave her the extra height that allowed for their breaths to mingle, for them to breathe in one another. His hands held her so tightly she was sure that even through the leather jacket; it would've left a mark. Her pale skin always flushed and bruised with ease, especially whenever it came to Jax's touch.

Speaking of his hands, she found them fervently burning their way up to her neck, as they always had a habit of doing for as long as she could remember.

She knows exactly just by the positioning his hands what he plans on doing; his index finger deliciously digging through her hair to place that familiar pressure to her skull, his pinky finger feathering light circles lower on her neck creating a sweet juxtaposition of pain and pleasure.

Before she has the chance to absorb what's coming next, a black SUV pulls up to the cabin, its two headlights shining upon them. The bright hot lights transports both them back to a time where recklessness was their middle name. Where getting caught with their pants down, literally, by the cops was pathetically, a common occurrence between the two of them.

With his hands still cradling her head, he turns behind him to see who was disturbing this fleeting moment with his wife. The sight of the familiar Caddy had an intense groan ripping through his mouth, however, before he could swear at the arrival of his mother the doors to the SUV swung open. An argument could be heard between his mother and Nero.

"Nero just tell me what he told you before you go and co –," before her word was complete Nero jumps out of the driver side of the car and starts toward Jax. Gemma moves to intercept him, pleading him to stop and talk to her. Her words falling on deaf ears, Nero moves in with a viciousness to get to Jax.

At the sight of an enraged Nero, who refuses to be placated by his mother Jax instantly lets go Tara's face. He knows and recognizes the look of a man who wants blood all too well. He discerns in the moment that he's Nero's target; he rapidly moves himself away from Tara and shifts to the right, his back facing the stairs of the cabin.

He raises his right hand, but before he gets a chance to get a word in, Nero brings a massive fist up and sucker punches him. The force behind the blow instantly knocks Jax to his knees.

Both Gemma and Tara take a step forward with a cry of shock.

"Nero! Stop this!" Gemma rushes to Nero and places a hand on his shoulder which gets shrugged off the moment Jax takes to his feet.

Jax disgustingly spits a wad of blood and saliva onto the ground and brings his hand to his jaw. He moves his jaw to check to see if it's broken.

He looks up to Nero, "Hello to you partner."

Nero lunges for Jax once more, but at the ready he brings his right hand up to deflect Nero's punch, and moves in with a one of his own.

In the background, Tara picks her purse off the ground, dusts it off with a sneer and begins to look for her car keys once again. The stupidity of the human race is astounding. She curses the darkness of where she's standing and wishes she could stand over where the light is, but her husband and his partner are taking up all the light with their stupid fist fighting. She continues on with her search as if it's the most important thing in the world, ignoring the cries of Gemma and the men coming out to break the fight up.

Selective attention, however, seems to be the only thing that could tear Tara from her perilous search of the elusive car keys. She hears her name spill out of Nero's mouth and looks up to see him pointing at her.

With a roll of her eyes, she spins to face the men, "What'd Tara Knowles do now?"

"You know mano, I don't blame your wife for what she did. I can see why she wants her children away from you."

Jax once again lunges for Nero's head, but the sound of Tara's sardonic rebuttal stops him, "It's more so your little girlfriend."

All eyes swivel in her direction, to which she raises her left hand and bobs her head as if weighing her options, "Just saying. She did almost kill my – sorry, _her_ kids or did we all forget that."

There was a long extended pause to which everyone still stared at her, stunned at the light heartedness in her demeanor. It was so unlike Tara, who always came off as a 'no nonsense' kind of a chick, to sarcastically drop that kind info. There was no undertone of malice in her voice; all they heard were sweet soft-spoken words that read as a truth to her.

With a few flicks of her left hand and smile, "Please don't let me stop the beginning of what seemed like a really important diatribe. With all due respect, continue on."

With her reminder of why he was there in the first place, Nero stuck Jax with a look of contempt.

"I talked to Juice, he told me what you had him do."

Wiping the blood from lip and cheek Jax stepped towards Nero, "What exactly did Juice do."

"Suffocated an innocent mother to death on you orders," Jax painted his face with false confusion, "Please don't lie to me twice Jax. When I confronted you, I told you Darvanny had two other children who needed her, I asked you to be straight with me man, to tell me the truth. Instead you lied, you embraced me and called me brother."

Jax took another step towards Nero, anger dancing throughout his eyes, "Where's Juice?"

With a smile, "He's currently recovering from an overdose. The shit you made that boy carry pushed him over the edge. You think shit like that just gets buried, just goes away. That hurting people that way don't have consequences. Well they do mano, they do."

"So what you saying man, you gonna serve me out my consequence?"

"No. Me and you, mano, we're good. I got what I needed to get out. We'll keep the pussy flowing. I'm not backing out, but believe me mano, karma. Karma, she'll be back. And when she comes, she'll make you pay."

Nero turned back to Gemma's SUV, "Whenever you're ready mama. I'll wait."

Jax turns to look at his mother, "Where's Juice?"

She sighs, "Jax look, Juice he's in real bad way. When me and Ner –"

"We're heading back up tomorrow, we'll deal with him then." Jax looks over to see Tara still standing by her car.

"Rat. Watch over Tara, she's gonna head on home and get a change of clothes. Stay there with her, and drive up tomorrow."

She played with her new found keys in her hand, "I must say Jackson, the irony is not lost on me. Whatsoever."

"Tara, not now."

"Oh so we talk when it's convenient for you. Sorry it must have slipped my mind. I'm just an old lady, we have to do what we're told when we're told," She presses the unlock button on her key and as she turns to open the door she salutes Jax, "Aye aye captain."

He ruffles his hair out of habit and frustration, "What irony Tara?"

"Oh you know. When that nut job Tooric was dead set on making me an example to you and your merry biker brigade, I swore up and down that my husband would never sanction or order another member to kill an innocent woman. That you would never do that to someone," A very unlady like snicker and snort made its way from her as she shakes her head, "Oh how the times have changed."

She climbs into her Ford and catches the sight of Thomas' car seat in the rearview mirror which brings her to sticking her head out and calling out to Gemma.

"Where are my children? Aren't you _suppose_d to be watching them at this moment?"

Gemma beamed her with a smile, which hid the death glare behind her eyes.

"Don't you worry they're good hands, Wayne is watching them."

"By himself? He can't handle putting both of them down on his own."

Stuck in _her_ power play with Tara, she didn't catch herself before dropping the name of the one person Jax never wants near his sons, "Don't you worry about that either sweetheart, _Wendy_ is helping him."

Stuck in _his_ leftover feelings from what just transpired, he moves towards his mother. Remembering the anger of Wendy shooting up while pregnant with Abel and remembering the hatred for his mother driving high with his sons in the backseat brought him to question why Wendy was with his sons.

"Why the hell is that junkie anywhere near my sons?"

"Wifey's manipulations got to her. I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and guess that lying about wills, pregnancies and miscarriages violates one of those twelve steps," She shrugs her shoulder and steps towards Jax, "I'm just looking after her until tomorrow. She gets shipped off to rehab then."

He turns away to his mother and walks over to Tara, "Swing by her place and pick up the kids. I don't want her anywhere near them."

"Jackson. Wayne and I will the ones taki –"

"You know what, wait for me, I'm going with you."

He walks past Chibs, Tig, Happy and Rat and tells them to follow him inside.

After all the men return inside to speak with Jax, Gemma turns her attention to Tara.

She digs a hole into the dirt with the heel of her boot, "You must be enjoying this aren't you?"

"Being awkwardly locked in close quarters for the next thirty minutes with my estranged husband? Oh yeah, it tops my bucket list for sure."

Gemma walks over to Tara's car door, "I know my son. He may be blinded for now, but the sting of that betrayal will return. Believe me."

Growing tired of Gemma's incessant gloating she decides to not just pacify her this time 'round. She swings the door open, causing Gemma to have to take several steps back. In the background she hears Nero exit Gemma's car and approach them.

"There is _no_ _one_ around here who should be talking less about betrayal, than you. My betrayal may have _stung_, but at least in didn't end with him being put six feet under."

She steps back from Gemma as the cabin door swings open to reveal Jax wearing his jacket and kutte. He walks past Nero without so much as glance in his direction. Obviously Jax recognizes that this isn't the time or the place to deal with what he perceives as "club business".

"We're gonna take the boys home. Tomorrow morning we'll drop 'em off at daycare then head up here. Tara'll take a look at Bobby, then head on back to take them from daycare. I gotta few things to do in the morning, but I'll be back around noon."

"Why don't Nero and I just drop them off over at your place? Save you the trouble."

Nero hesitantly steps forward and interjects, "Actually, I was wondering if you could drop me back over at Diosa. Got a few things to clean up."

Gemma nods her head in Nero's direction and turns back to Jax, "Okay, well Unser is there. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I don't know, plan on taking a little personal day."

Gemma leans over and places a chaste kiss on his cheek. Before stepping away she glares at Tara. Her son's new found trust in Tara unsettles her. Fear of her trying to pull him in the other direction starts to slowly trickle in, but is quickly shut out with the reminder of Tara's murder charges. However, satisfaction laced with doubt is enough for someone like Gemma to get the wheels turning.

She turns away from the two of them and both she and Nero returns to the car and drives away leaving Jax and Tara to stare at each other.

He takes a step forward which is parried with a heeled boot moving backwards away from him. The memory of the palpable heat that burned between them not so long away crawled its way right back under her skin. She starts to climb back into the drivers' seat, however, the keys are snatched from her hand before she gets the chance to sit.

"Wha –"

"I'll drive."

She rolls her eyes at him, "You know if anyone should be groveling, it should probably be me. I was the one who faked a pregnancy then a miscarriage. If anyt –"

"Stop! Stop saying it like that," he takes her hand and pulls her from the junction between the seat and the door, "Just go get in the car."

Not in the mood to back down she takes her right hand and pushes him as he enters the car.

"Stop saying it like what? Does it _pain_ you to hear how your wife hurt you so deeply?"

"No! It pains me to know that _I_ was the reason why you did something like that." He grips her steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He turns to face her, his eyes pitifully regretful, "So please babe, just get in the car."

She sighs in acceptance and slams his door shut. She walks around the back of her car as he starts it up. She clambers into the unfamiliar passenger side.

As he adjusts the seat to his height she turns to him, "Unlike everyone around here, I actual act my age, so therefore you can treat as such. I can own the consequences of my actions, so please why don't you treat me as so. _You_ didn't force me to do anything. _My_ actions were _my_ own."

She sighs and leans back in the seat, "If we're going to _'figure out'_ whatever the hell is _left_ between us to figure out, then the only way I see that happening is through owning what we did. We can't just absolve each other of our sins, at least not yet anyways."

As they both reach behind themselves to grab their seatbelts he asks her, "Do you even want to figure _us_ out Tara?"

"To be completely straight with you, I don't know. The one image I prayed over and over to myself to_ never_ have the displeasure of _having_, I now have." She buckles her seatbelt and casts her gaze out the passenger side window. Her hands fiddling with the leather of the seat, "Seeing you with that prostitute….. I don't know if I can lower the respect I have for _myself_ to forget that. And I don't know if I can respect a man who could ever ask me to."

He watches Tara and the intense feeling of guilt and shame hits him again like a brick. He doesn't know what to say to her. Lost would be kind for how he felt in regard to his wife.

So all he can do is reverse the car and begin to drive down a very long road. The scary thing about the road he's driving on right now, is that it's not even a fraction of the length he's gonna have to travel in order to find his way back to his wife.


End file.
